April 6, 2012

Posted: 2012 Apr 06 on MyHometownNews.net, local online news for Volusia County, Florida.
By Dan Harkins
DELEON SPRINGS , FL- Joe Rahl doesn’t want to get into the traumatic experiences he witnessed while serving on shore duty in the U.S. Navy during the 1983 Beirut barracks attack.
During a recent balmy morning visit to DeLeon Springs State Park, he just wanted to fly fish.
Mr. Rahl was among more than a dozen disabled veterans who spent the day learning to tie ornate flies under a pavilion at the park, then cast them properly into Spring arden Run under the watchful eye of instructor Lars Lutton of Edgewater.
They’re part of the Veterans Administration’s Psychosocial Rehabilitation and Recovery Center in Daytona Beach, which just started partnering in January with the Mid-Coast Fly Fishers Club for regular training and outings. Called Project Healing Waters, the program currently has about 100 chapters across the country.
“It’s so meditative,” said Mr. Rahl, 54, of Holly Hill, while trying to land his hook just beyond where some bubbles popped to the surface. “Things may be going downhill in our country or in the world, but when you can have just a few hours of absolute peace, it’s really refreshing.”
Fly fishing entails a different approach to angling that many say can help take the mind off of persistent anxiety. Though fly hooks can be purchased, many tie their own to suit the type of fish that are biting right then and there.
The flies are then coaxed out into place on the water with subtle whips of a long pole. The goal: make a fish think the fly is live bait.
“All fishing is a challenge,” said one of Mid-Coast’s trainers, Bill Bessette, “but this is more of a challenge.”
Joe Stark, 52, of Daytona Beach, has a different word to describe it.
“It’s tedious,” he joked, just before trying to tie off another standard rig, called a Clouser minnow. “That’s my overall feeling.”
Mr. Stark was in the Navy just three years before falling from the top deck in his ship’s engine room to the metal floor below. He now has a seizure disorder and problems with motor skills.
That hasn’t stopped him, though, from wanting to learn as much about life as he can.
“I’m no different than anyone else,” he said. “I’m always looking for new things.”
Steve Kyer, director of the VA’s rehab and recovery program, said many of his charges have chronic pain or mental disorders like post-traumatic stress disorder that make it hard to face the day.
“Things like this get them back into the community and involved in life,” he said. “With what they’ve been through, a lot of people would just stay home, isolated, and they’re out here doing things.”
As some instructors helped veterans tie fly hooks in the shade, Dan Harmon was out in the sun, teaching others how to set aside their reel-casting ways in favor of a fly fishing pole. He’s been teaching fly fishing for 36 years, and he can’t think of anyone who could use this type of therapy more.
“We’re doing this to help veterans,” he said. “They’re in the healing process and this heals. You want to do something with your hands, your minds, and maybe you can forget a little.”
One fisherman, Matt McNerney, 38, of New Smyrna Beach, is a member of both groups. A fly fisherman of 13 years who makes his own poles and flies, he’s also a disabled veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps, who injured his knee and back during service in the late 1990s.
“It’s definitely relaxing,” he said of his favorite pastime. “The pain is still there, but I’m not paying as much attention to it. Whether your problems are physical or emotional, it’s going to take your mind away from that and put a focus somewhere else. It’s temporary relief.”
In the meantime, he said, a “more intimate type of fishing” is being learned.
“It’s really you and the fish,” Mr. McNerney said. “It’s more focused. It’s not a lot of running around, soaking bait and just cast after cast after cast. You’re looking for a sign of a fish and trying to present a fly to the fish in a way that’s going to look natural.”
Even if nothing gets caught, said Navy vet Joe Rahl, it’s still therapeutic.
“Getting fish is secondary,” he said. “It’s nice, but it’s not the reason I’m out here.”
For more information, call (386) 405-3800.